


A Prison of Our Own Making

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wrote this for myself but y'all can enjoy it too, Jealousy, Lots of Whump, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Stiles, POV Stiles Stilinski, Pathetic attempt at Mystery, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Protective Stiles Stilinski, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Smut, UST, Use of swear words, Writing challenge fic, dub-con, flangst, kind of long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21549724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Stiles meets the mysterious Reader while he’s stuck in a coma. He eventually falls for the Reader but then doesn’t remember her or their relationship after waking up. It takes a near accident for Stiles to regain his memories of Reader but could he be too late to do something about it?
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Reader/OMC, Stiles Stilinski/Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s), Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38
Collections: Anonymous





	1. My New Reality

**Author's Note:**

> This is a self challenge prompt. Mostly written in Stiles POV. Slow build with possibility of smut in later chapters. Please consider employing a healthy dose of suspension of disbelief as you progress with this story.  
> Also, feel free to substitute your preferred eye & hair color as I went with standard brown for both.  
> ~  
> No beta reader, so all mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading this!

_"I never saw a man who looked_

_With such a wistful eye_

_Upon that little tent of blue_

_Which prisoners call the sky,_

_And at every drifting cloud that went_

_With sails of silver by."_

**_~ The Ballad of Reading Gaol, Oscar Wilde_ **

“Uuugghh…”

Stiles groans, clutching his head while struggling to open his eyes, blinking rapidly against the fierce push of pain and awareness, as he fights his way to the land of living.

_‘Whoa! That fucking hurts! W-what happened…where the hell am I?’_

The first thing Stiles notices after recovering full functioning of his senses is that he has no idea of his whereabouts except for the obvious: lying on a bench inside a fairly large and busy shopping mall. He also doesn't have his phone, wallet or his jeep keys with him which is bad. On second thoughts, he realizes his exact location from a nearby candy kiosk that he’d frequented BST (Before Scott’s Transformation) – still in Beacon Hills then, good. 

_‘Huh. But how the hell did I even get here? I don’t even know the last time I was in this mall…probably for prom shopping and spying on Allison and Lydia with Scott. Still, why am I here now and resting on a bench no less…Something’s missing but what? Damn, but my entire body feels like it went ten rounds with an Alpha Werewolf and predictably lost. Huh. Was that what happened? But then, why did he end up here of all places?’_

Stiles doesn’t remember setting his foot inside this establishment during recent memory or even the need to do so what with all the supernatural drama in their lives. In fact, the very last thing he remembers (after wrecking his head for answers for ten minutes straight) is driving his roscoe to meet up with Scott and their pack at Derek’s place for emergency pack meeting after breakfast and then… nothing.

He quickly glances down noting his attire of dark jeans and a red plaid shirt over a black top, matches with his recollection of clothing when he was racing the loyal roscoe towards Derek’s loft.

_‘Huh. Okay then! It is plausible that whatever has happened, he only missed a couple of hours at the most which means it’s currently either afternoon or evening.’_

He going to take all his rants back; Stiles has never been more grateful to be sucked into their town’s supernatural drama on a Saturday. His dad’s shift at the station today will end at midnight, so Stiles has plenty of time to wrap this up and be at home before his dad returns. As much as his father is alright with the paranormal events Stiles and his friends are dragged into every time; his usually indulgent dad made it clear that he draws a line at Stiles going missing for hours at end without prior intimation of any kind. Which, Stiles couldn’t really fault him since both of them are aware of how dangerous it could get in Beacon Hills where territorial wars between supernatural beings is pretty much a routine event.

He slowly stands after deciding to venture out and fights off the dizziness threatening to overpower his still recovering scrambled senses. Stiles pushes through the haze valiantly; though his legs feel heavy as lead, and his body is protesting to stage a mutiny while a painful storm rages in his head. Stiles doesn’t know how he came to be in this place but odds of this setting being safe (to him anyway) is extremely low.

He has no idea what the latest threat they’re supposed to be facing since Derek refused to divulge any glory details on phone except to snap ‘ _Strategy Meeting now’_. Scott and others are bound to be looking for him if they aren’t already in danger themselves. Fuck but he hopes the rest of them are safe. If only he could remember…

Stiles resolves to figure out the mystery of his sudden amnesia as soon as his throbbing headache fades; piecing together the disjointed fragments of information and clues he’s bound to pick up from these surroundings.

It is possible that they are still dealing with the same coven of rogue witches from last month. Things have been quiet for a while but Stiles couldn’t shake off this nagging feeling that it was just a temporary truce. Derek had firmly insisted on the crisis being averted, no longer posing a threat to them and that the coven leader had promised to deal with their trouble-makers according to their rules. But Stiles wasn’t satisfied with the coven’s head assurances. The situation wouldn’t have deteriorated and come this far if that old witch truly still held control over her coven members. Whatever, Stiles will know soon enough once he meets up with either Derek or Scott. Hell, he would even be glad to come across the sassy face of Isaac right now!

As for Lydia, the most beautiful and amazing girl he’s ever met and been in love with since third grade; if Stiles manages to survive this thing then he’s cutting couple of years of his ten-year wooing plan and will do something equally reckless and romantic like kiss her maybe…only if she’s into it though. Stiles couldn’t help but imagine all sorts of scenarios on how that will turn out, and uses the thoughts of his green eyed angel to fuel him on his quest.

Stiles visualizes meeting a distressed Lydia in her room upon returning and reassuring her that he’s safe and sound; and Lydia would be so relieved that she will throw herself into his arms, hugging him fiercely. He will then confess his undying love for her, and Lydia miraculously will also return his sentiments. Stiles then holds her perfect face in his hands and they will end up kissing passionately; her curvaceous figure pressing tightly against the flat planes of his body, fitting like a hand in a glove as his lips move to explore every inch of her form in ardent devotion, taking time to worship her as she rightfully deserves as they end up making love.

He stifles a moan at the vivid images his mind supplies him with, and curses darkly when he gets turned on in public place, quite obvious to anyone accidentally checking him out. Fuck!

_‘Quick, think of something disgusting or horrifying. Naked Derek…shit, that’s not really helping because that guy’s got a seriously hot body. Okay then, Scott naked, no Scott having sex…yup that does it. Thank Merlin. Better to focus on immediate task and stop fantasizing about Lydia for now…He can always revisit this scenario where he stopped, as usual at night in the privacy of his room.’_

With his pants no longer restrictively tight, Stiles carries on making his way through the mall, being on constant vigilance as much as he could manage without coming across as weird or creepy, at least he hopes so.

Few stressful minutes of trudging later, Stiles gradually starts to feel much better; the agony residing in his body receding and giving way to his sharp instincts once again. After observing and experimenting with some random shoppers, Stiles comes to a terrifyingly bizarre yet indisputable (if the evidence is to be believed) conclusion that he’d somehow managed to become invisible and intangible at the same time.

People didn’t seem to notice a sarcastic, five feet ten inches pale guy trying his best to interact with them; they’re going about their day unaffected to his horror, not even tripping when Stiles tries to shove them, desperate to get any reaction at all. Unexpectedly turning invisible Stiles can accept and even understand, perhaps a result of another rogue witch cursing his annoying ass (which he was familiar with now) but unable to touch and impact solid objects and people is straight up freaking him out.

_‘WTF?! Is he- is he dead? Did he become a ghost, burdened to haunt the corridors of Beacon hills - shopping mall for the rest of the eternity? Although, he is highly curious as to why this particular site is to be his haunting grounds…maybe, because this is the second most populated area of their town? All the same, this is way better than a platform in a railway station. Wait, why is he accepting his abrupt demise as the only solution here? Giving up is not and never has been a Stilinski trait and Stiles is not going to start now – dead or not. No, he cannot think that way!_

_He cannot be dead! Just no! He still has a lot of people to annoy, not to mention his father and Scott will be devastated if he dies and Lydia…god, he didn’t get to implement his ten year plan to win her heart. All his friends who are truly his family now, he cannot imagine not being able to talk with any of them, touch or hug them ever again. Even Isaac and Jackson are included in his list and wasn’t that showcasing the gravity of Stiles situation if he’s willing to even get within personal space of those two wolves!_

_He hasn’t even crossed out one-third wishes from his bucket list. Sure, Stiles lost his virginity few weeks back to his childhood friend, Heather – he finally got his wish of having a good time, several times in several different positions too but that’s no reason to give in and accept defeat. Stiles has yet to impress Lydia, date her and make her fall in love with him. Not to mention, Scott is lost without Stiles valuable wisdom and guidance, so does everyone else in their pack except Lydia of course …and someone has to be there to stop Derek from making even more stupid and suicidal decisions, thereby destroying any chance of attaining happiness. Stiles, cares about his pack Dammit, and they will be utterly lost without him, whether they realise this or not._

_So, no Stiles is not giving up and definitely not without putting up a fight. He needs to recover his recent memories and fill the blanks ASAP. Obviously something fishy is going on and he will get to the bottom of it using whatever means necessary._

_Okay, time to enter detective Stiles mode. First, let’s see if he can make it out of this building and then he can reach out to Deaton or Lydia and they can work out a solution to his problem.’_

_**-S &R-** _

Roughly half an hour later and after few continual failed attempts at making physical contact, Stiles walks out of the mall to his relief and meanders aimlessly around streets of the town. The ‘ _I’m somehow a ghost now’_ theory is starting to gain more credibility the longer Stiles goes unnoticed by the townsfolk despite rambling nonsense out loud and making funny faces at strangers he comes across. He gathers it’s close to noon from a passerby’s wrist watch but fat lot of good that’s gonna do to him. Time’s a construct and affects him no more if Stiles is truly a spirit now.

Stiles sighs, losing the little hope and determination he managed to wrap as a cloak shielding him from negativity after succeeding in leaving the mall, and drowns back in despair.

_‘Had he really yeed his last haw?’_ Stiles couldn’t help but wonder despondently.

What use is even running back to Derek, Lydia and Deaton or hell, even Chris Argent if they cannot see or hear him? Allison’s father might have had leads or resources on how to cure him if it’s anything mystic related but not if Stiles is dead with a capital D. That sort of thing is irreversible and generally falls into the category of necromancy which is unquestionably frowned upon. In fact, if bringing dead people back to life is even remotely possible, Derek would have moved heaven and hell to get his own family back…and yeah, since the sourwolf is still very much alone that says everything Stiles needs to know about his own fate.

Perhaps he should cut his losses now and just curl up somewhere to fade eventually. Hopefully, whatever higher power that presides over this earth will take pity on Stiles and will send him packing on his way to hell. Because, he has no illusions about it: Stiles is definitely going to hell – only question is whether it’s in a first class carriage or coach and which circle he’s going to end up in.

Stiles slowly drags his long fingers through his soft hair in frustration and catches the sight of a familiar, air-conditioned diner on the street across from him. Well, if he’s planning on resting for a foreseeable future, might as well do it in a comfortable area, indoors and near mouth-watering food; though, it would be a bitch to be near such delicious food and unable to partake even to simply taste. Hunger and thirst no longer seem to hold a concern for Stiles, and wasn’t that a punch in the gut when he first realized this fact. However, he can still get horny at random intervals (as proved) as befitting of a teenager even though he attained ghost status now. _Fucking figures!_

Little things such as pushing the door open also no longer apply to Stiles, though it brings home another rude awakening as to what he lost when he tries to follow usual pattern and simply floats over the solid door and into diner easy as a breeze. He shudders slightly and focuses around the room to find an empty booth to sit.

Stiles, even if no longer a prisoner to mortal needs and is impalpable, still isn’t comfortable enough to be reminded of these facts by sitting on or through someone else. He’s in a bit of luck though, as there’s an empty booth in the corner next to a group of people he vaguely recognizes as students from one of his classes.

Stiles makes his way towards the corner booth, fingers-crossed he wouldn’t sink to the bottom when he attempts to slides in. Seeing as how he was able to lie on the bench for god knows how long, this shouldn’t pose a problem, at least Stiles hopes so. And thank Lucifer for small mercies, Stiles is so grateful to be able to relax on the comfy couch and take in the cool air that he voices out his pleasure using few strong, choice words and quite loudly too if the startled glance from a girl seated with his fellow classmates, is of any indication.

He grimaces, dropping his head down in mortification and starts to swear about his loose mouth when it strikes him what actually took place just then. Stiles jerks up his head in shock and narrows his eyes observing the girl, a nice looking brunette, who is once again absorbed in listening intently to the heated conversation of her group; taking in her posture carefully to double-check whether his eyes had played a trick on him earlier or not.

Stiles is unwittingly left mesmerized as he catalogs her understated, attractive features: gorgeous olive skin tone, large and bewitching brown eyes, Cupid’s bow lips covered in a ruby colored lipstick that keep erratically breaking out in a small but engaging grins. She is actually quite pretty at a second glance, although she is no Lydia, his strawberry-blonde goddess. 

The girl is seated at the entrance of their booth, exact opposite to Stiles – all she had to do was turn her head left, a thirty degrees and she will be able to catch his enthralled gaze, provided she can really see him. She absentmindedly flips back her chocolate-brown tresses behind a shoulder as she leans forward a little towards the table; that movement drawing special attention both to her glossy, mid-length hair and her pleasant figure dressed casually in a simple forest green shirt tucked inside a short, black skirt. She is by no means drop dead gorgeous (like his Lydia) but cute in a girl next door way, like the kind you find in classic rom-com movies. 

Stiles takes a minute to appreciate the tantalizing impression this girl exudes so effortlessly, his gaze lingering over her slender legs, a decent waist and an ample bosom before snapping back to her face. He might be head-over-heels in love with Lydia but that doesn’t mean he is immune to indulging in occasional fantasies about hot strangers. He’s conscious of the difference though: always dreaming of making love to Lydia - the love of his life, as opposed to fancying a fuck – fast and kinky with people who happen to catch his interest temporarily. And this unknown teen fits the bill perfectly - she's giving out classic nerd vibes while still coming across as a fun type, who's down for anything once kind of a girl.

It is not like Stiles can do more than envision these scenarios other than wanking to them maybe since he's no longer an active and breathing member of the human crowd. Fuck, he will not be able to touch another human being ever again let alone kiss or do more...all he can do now is indulge in occasional flight of fancy, in hope his imagination and creativity are good enough to satisfy his itches. Perhaps in another timeline where he has no knowledge of Lydia's existence, he might have approached this pretty girl and they could even work out as a couple or even just fool around like normal teenagers do...it's certainly makes up for an intriguing thought. 

Stiles figures why not and entertains a fleeting thought of how it would feel to have those pretty legs wrapped around his waist as he takes her against the wall or across any hard surface really; his tongue signing his full name inside her mouth. She would be loud in expressing her approval and encouragement as he goes back to nipping her teasing lips, one hand holding her captive while the other plays with her nipples, they would move against each other in perfect sync even as he repeatedly hits her G-spot, making her come under him multiple times.

Stiles sucks in a deep breath, his blood rushing downstairs at the direction of his dirty thoughts and yup, he is hard in a public place, again. Well, at least no one can see him (this time), so that’s one blessing in disguise! Wait, isn’t the whole point of his ~~ogling~~ scrutiny is to figure out whether the hot girl can see him or not?

_'Yeah, better get a grip. Nope, not going there…Focus, Stiles you’ve got bigger things to worry about. Dammit, he just can’t seem to stop it. Alright, time to give this a go.’_

He's surprised at the intensity and depth found in the delusion his mind cooked up so fast. Such vivid reveries as a rule comprised only of Lydia and their happily ever after scenarios until now. It is feasible that he's still in shock and distracting himself through strong reactions is what his brain came up with to protect his fragile psyche. Y _eah, that totally makes sense and it also seems to be actually working for him._

He cautiously adjusts himself, and decides to take a simple route to gain the girl’s attention if it was even possible in the first place.

_‘Here, goes nothing!’_

Stiles places two fingers in his mouth and whistles sharply in her direction, expecting her to carry on paying attention to her friends. This is why it comes as a huge shock to Stiles when the cute girl jostles in her seat, instantly turning towards him –source of the noise.

She appears to be as flabbergasted as Stiles feels, her lush lips forming a silent ‘o’ in shock as they silently acknowledge each other’s presence.

_‘S-she can see me…holy shit! This is great! She can help me contact Scott and then we can work on…yeah, no need to get hopes up but at least try something to fix this. But how can this girl be the only one to see me…Wait, why is she able to see me though…is-is she like me too…?’_

He belatedly notices something which should have struck him as odd from the start, though he could easily justify his distraction in this case; this girl didn’t interact even once with anyone from her table in all the time Stiles had monitored her. More than that, none of the members in her booth even glanced in her direction as if…as if she wasn’t present, as though she’s invisible to them just like Stiles is to everyone else…except to hot girl, that is.

Painfully aware of the deafening thumping of his heart at this conclusion, which could still be wrong, Stiles holds her startled gaze, steadfastly and breathes out a quiet ‘hey’.

He follows her reaction closely and almost passes out in relief when the girl’s eyes widen further in shock.

_‘Thank Merlin! She can hear him too which means he’s not alone anymore.’_

Stiles waits, with shaking hands as his body adjusts to the adrenaline spike in his system, for the girl to respond back once she gets over the initial shock. She worries her lower lip with her teeth; clearly contemplating her next move but Stiles gets transported back to his earlier fantasy with that small action and misses it when she apparently comes to a decision.

It doesn’t take long for her respond and fuck, if her voice doesn’t do strange things to his insides.

“Hello”

_**OO-S &R-OO** _


	2. Fellow Inmate!

“Hello”

Stiles knows he’s staring but couldn’t make himself stop for the fear this could turn out to be a hallucination – a result of an over-exhausted yet creative mind trying to make him stay positive throughout this mess, and then comprehension sets in. His eyes nearly bug out in wonder. This girl (he’s gonna call her hot girl from now on) is able to see and is also actually addressing him. This is beyond awesome and oh, she’s approaching his table and okay, sitting opposite him now…cool.

Stiles takes a deep breath, trying to calm down in order to not freak her out. He’s really excited at this optimistic turn of events but needs to contain it or risk ending up embarrassed by doing something stupid. As it is, Stiles is strangely flustered to be in the presence of this attractive stranger and to think, she almost caught him getting turned on by her...yeah, best to bar his thoughts from that direction, starting now.

“Hey, Sti-Stilinski. What the hell are you doing here?” Hot girl demands him in a bewildered tone, and coming across as pretty shell-shocked.

_Huh. Hot girl knows him and his name…damn! Is she one of his classmates then? But she doesn’t appear familiar at all….not even in an ‘I might have seen or heard of you in the background of my high-school social life’ way. Why is she taken aback to find him here though? It’s not like he’s (publicly) banned from entering this establishment, granted it’s not a diner he frequents a lot or at all, but still…that is a weird first response to receive from a perfect stranger who happens to recognize you._

Yeah, confusion and shock seem to be a major theme in this afterlife thing. Still, this hot girl evidently knows Stiles and she could, possibly clear some of that up for him since plainly she’s been around here much longer.  
Hmm…whatever’s happening here, this girl sure is hella comfortable sneaking around and spying on people. Maybe that’s how she knew of him in the first place? Anyway, hot girl certainly appears bemused enough to warrant a lengthy inquisition from him.

“You know me?” Stiles blurts out instead of firing questions he planned on getting answers from her. She stares at him for a hot second as though Stiles had grown a second head and then just as suddenly huffs in exasperation, muttering something under her breath that sounds a lot like _‘typical’_ and _‘of course’_.

“Yeah…of course I know you. Everyone at our high school either knows you or heard of you, Stilinski.” She rolls her eyes when Stiles gawk at her response.

_‘Wow, what? He’s popular now? When the fuck did that happen and why wasn’t he informed? Wait, is it in the good way or a gross way…?’_

She huffs, shaking her head in obvious disbelief and continues to addresses him with a half-hearted glare.

“There’s no escaping from hearing about you, Stilinski – from antics in school, to your achievements in both sports and academia. Not to mention your father is literally the sheriff of this town while you share an infamous reputation of being a local delinquent along with Scott McCall – captain of our school’s lacrosse team. There, is your ego stroked yet or do you actually need me to keep going? Not that I’m offering to sing any more praises mind you, that was just a rhetorical question.” She retorts, crossing her arms and scowls at him.

Stiles raises an eyebrow. _Whoa, what’s her damage?_ He was just trying to break the ice and says as much - using his standard sarcasm to not so subtly drive the point home. This seems to knock her off whatever high horse she’s been on and the girl flushes in response, offering a sheepish grin.

“I’m really sorry…I- it’s just- you know what, let’s just start afresh. I’m Y/N. of course I know you…er, of you, Stilinski. Your high grades in school are second only to Lydia Martin and also from being on first string in the lacrosse matches. I don’t expect you to know me but we have quite a few classes in common. But enough about all that…what happened to you? How the hell did you end up here of all places?” Y/N asked again, concern quite obvious in her enquiries this time.

 _‘Here of all places?’_ There’s that strange phrasing again. Is Y/N perhaps referring to the afterworld and his recent transition to spirit form when she said that?

“Umm...I woke up in a mall and wandered down here on instinct..? I don’t really remember how I came to be this way but I’m guessing you do?” Stiles worries his bottom lip, studying the frown Y/N sports at his replies.

There’s an awkward pause. Y/N is clearly debating with herself about how much info to reveal him and whether Stiles would end up having a breakdown at her explanations. She’s kinda late on that front; he already went through that phrase and somehow survived. Now Stiles just wants someone who lived through it all to spell guidelines of this spirit world to him. Oh wait, Y/N was in his classes until lately, so she must have kicked the bucket not so long ago. Maybe she’s just as clueless as Stiles is, when it comes to being an agent of the shadows…

Y/N tilts her head to one side, perplexed; studying him some more and apparently comes to a conclusion – one that seems to amuse her to a great extent.

“Umm, exactly what do you think is going on here, Stilinski?”

Stiles grimaces. “Just call me Stiles, alright. And…yeah, I already figured we’re in the Beacon Hills version of Valhalla, so you can chill out about giving that speech. I’m done freaking out... But if you got any tips on surviving… err, passing this stage or whatever then, I’m all ears.”

She lets out a bark of laughter. Y/N takes a moment to get composed before explaining her reaction during which Stiles shifts uncomfortably and anxiously starts wringing his hands below the table. He apparently has a reputation to maintain now and stressing out visibly, is a sure way to ruin his own chances. Not that he has any chance with this girl, well, only because Stiles isn’t interested in Y/N like that. Not like he was thinking one of them is out of league for the other or something.

_Damn, his ADD strikes again! Where was he? Yeah, he wants to play it cool and not strike as a nervous wreck to Y/N. Sure, he could that…will try at least._

“Wow…sorry to disappoint but we’re not actually dead, Stiles. Jesus, for a smart guy you sure do seem to jump to a lot of wrong conclusions.”

Stiles is flabbergasted at hearing Y/N’s statement, wild hope bubbling in his chest once again. “What? Not dead? A-are you sure? But then, how else do you explain the unforeseen loss of my, and I’m guessing your corporeal abilities as well.”

She shrugs, coming across as a bit blasé. “Ever heard of a popular Rom-com film ‘ _Just like Heaven’_ starring Reese Witherspoon and Mark Ruffalo? Well, whether you heard of it or not, we seem to be stuck in a similar situation either way. I’ll give you a short version of the plot: accident, coma, hanging out in spirit form and waiting to wake up. And yes Stiles, I already have confirmation of this hypothesis being true.”

“Of course, I have seen that movie, Y/N. Really though…you’re sure about this?” Stiles couldn’t help but challenge her.

Y/N snorts. “Please, it’s been what…close to an hour since you’re awake, and losing it in here, Stiles…do you even have any idea how long I have been here? I’m guessing you don’t, right. Anyways, it’s been long enough that I was able to get past those peculiar barriers restricting entry into major areas of this town. Hell, for all I know this place could be some kind of alternate dimension that resembles few of Beacon Hills moderately popular joints.

"In fact, I do believe some places like this diner, exist entirely as a transition stop between reality and spiritual realm. As in what happens here at least for people like us, has no relevance or consequences in the real world.”

She exhales; rubbing her hands tiredly over her eyes in frustration and then drags them through her silky hair. Stiles frowns at the new information and eagerly waits for Y/N to elaborate.

“There’s these…strange force fields,” Y/N begins haltingly. “-that are almost everywhere you go…almost as if caging you in and controlling where you go. It doesn’t matter what you want, I mean, you can set out for one destination but you will eventually find yourself arriving someplace else, not even aware of the direction you’re choosing…it takes spending quite some time here, in this new reality, to notice the signs of these translucent barriers playing tricks on your mind and to be conscious of them.

"I don’t know how I managed to sidestep them and visit the real B.H, Stiles. Maybe it’s a matter of spending certain amount of time here in spirit form, I’m not sure; but once I did, I was free to roam all around this fake town until I stumbled upon evidence which proved I’m living the part of Elizabeth Masterson for real. Even then, unlike the movie I was not able to interact with others in the real world…until you came along. So, I just tend to stick to the few spots in town where those freaky barriers don’t interfere, and I don’t get electrified for my efforts to wander.”

Stiles is quiet in the aftermath of Y/N’s admission. From what she says, there must be certain magical precautions installed in place, to keep unsuspecting spirits from stumbling into or near supernatural activity and discovering their existence.

He is not sure who is responsible for Beacon Hills mystical fences guarding their local supernatural population but there’s obviously a reason for all of this. Y/N has no idea about the freak show their town truly is, perhaps why she got electrified when trying to venture into places charged with high mystical count. It is possible he won’t be affected in the same way as Y/N…wait, that’s not true. Stiles wanted to find his pack upon leaving the mall, had even set out towards Derek’s loft but somehow ended up trekking towards this part of the town, exactly as Y/N described. Huh. Clearly, this means he’s affected by these wards too…

“You alright, Stiles? I know that’s a lot to take in.” Y/N inquires in a soft voice, breaking into his musings.

He flails around, almost ends up falling down from his seat. Y/N watching him flounder hides her smile behind a poorly concealed cough. Stiles filled with embarrassment, hastens to justify his brooding silence from earlier.

“Yeah…just thinking, y’know. It all seems so abrupt- just this morning I’m on my way to meet my friends and now, evidently I’m a spirit while actually stuck in a coma. Also, for all intents and purposes, I’m banned from reaching out to my father and friends. It fucking sucks that I will be grounded within these four walls for who knows how long…God, I don’t even know if I’ll ever wake up or just fade away…”

Stiles rambles on, as the earlier terror and anxiety he successfully buried gets uncovered and begins assaulting him again. From his peripheral vision, Stiles could see Y/N is perturbed at his reaction, probably unused to his rapid mind-process and his magnificent ability to talk himself into a panic-attack. Yup. He should reassure her or something, but is too busy freaking out first. He feels light-headed, and bombarded with swift fears that his body stuck in Beacon Hills Hospital is slowly but surely facing a certain death.

_Fuck, does this mean Stiles met with a normal accident and could actually die? If it’s not a supernatural thing, then there is nothing Scott, Derek or even Deaton could do to save him. Can a werewolf bite even stop him from rotting as a vegetable? No, that’s not how it works (it certainly didn’t help Peter) and even if it did, Stiles is not interested in becoming a lycanthrope – pretty sure mixing his ADHD meds and full moon pheromones would be a lethal combo for the innocent B.H residents. Better not to risk it. No, thank you!_

What Stiles wouldn’t give to see his father, right now? He must have been devastated after getting notified by the hospital about Stiles’s accident.

“Hey, Stiles. Hey… just breathe, dude. You’re okay. You’re fine… so long as you are moving and breathing, everything’s fine. Trust me. Alright, take deep breaths.” Y/N holds his hands and after several tries, manages to shake Stiles out from his chaotic head and into the present.

During his panic attack, Y/N has moved to his side of the booth, leaning against him in support and they are currently huddled together now. Stiles focuses on Y/N’s voice and synchs his breathing level to match her deliberate deep breaths, and gradually feels better enough to breath normally. His body, er, self? Soul? Whatever…he feels drained thoroughly, as if he’d just run a marathon and is super parched. Except Stiles can no longer get thirsty or hungry. Just the uncomfortable and annoying emotions like anger, sorrow, fear and desire. _Geez!_ This is going to be a fucking party, he can already tell.

“Okay. Better now? Great. Why don’t you rest for a bit, Stiles. Go on, put your head on the table and try to nap. You will need the energy. We’ll talk once you settle down.” Y/N cajoles.

“Wait, you can touch me too? I still have questions Y/N…”

“Ssh…yes, I can because we are both in our spirit forms, at least that's what I'm calling it. Nope, your curiosity will have to wait a little longer, Stiles. Now, rest.” Y/N promises him, as she presses a warm hand on his back, and pushes it until his head actually rests against the table.

_‘Hmm…it feels nice and cozy…’_

Stiles wants to argue that he’s not some fragile snowflake that needs to lay down after a simple shock to system. He has been through much worse – crazy werewolf attacks, kanima attacks and hunters trying to kill him and his friends ever fortnight, you name it and Stiles has lived through it all. However, between Y/N’s soothing tone and the comforting ambience of diner, he slowly drifts off from the emotional roller coaster mess and surrenders to the beckoning, peaceful arms of sleep.

_**-S &R-** _

Stiles jerks awake abruptly, and for a moment is confused about his surroundings, eyes sweeping across the bustling diner and its dull wallpapered walls. He remembers with sudden clarity everything that transpired since he woke up at the mall – the accident, Stiles couldn’t remember to the phantom experience, he definitely remembers.

_Not a dream or nightmare then. Simply his new reality aka spirit world prison he’s confined to. Speaking of which, where’s his fellow-inmate?_

He looks around and doesn’t find Y/N anywhere. Fuck, he didn’t imagine her as a coping mechanism after all, did he? Just as Stiles was about to panic again, Y/N walks into the diner and joins him with a warm smile.

“Done with your beauty sleep?” She queries, instead of a greeting or you know, providing an explanation for her absence.

Stiles frowns. He needs those promised answers like an hour ago. _Huh, how much time had passed since he napped? Whatever, Time is a social construct anyway or is it?_

“Yes. You done with whatever it is that you were up to?” Stiles asks, tersely. Y/N blushes in obvious guilt and tries to use puppy eyes on him as defense. Ha. Stiles had numerous years’ worth of practice that made him immune to that move, courtesy of his best friend Scott _‘real puppy’_ McCall. Ain’t no way, this girl’s gonna escape from his prying that easily.

“Seriously Y/N, you agreed to share with me the necessary information and answers, I’ll be collecting them now please.” He insists.

She sighs, appearing put out for a second but then straightens up and faces him with a sober expression. “Sure. I don’t go back on my word, so I will do my best to help you fill in the blanks from my personal experience. What is it you want to know, Stiles?”

He narrows his eyes. Stiles does have a lot of questions but has to choose them carefully.

“Why are we here, of all places and not at the hospital, where our physical bodies are located?” Stiles finally settles on that one issue bugging him since Y/N gave clarity about their undead status. Hell, he still has difficulty believing her to be honest.

Playing with her nails, Y/N keeps her gaze trained on her hands as she answers.

“I really don’t know. But if I had to guess – I’d say…perhaps this is a neutral ground? A place where no one, important from my life and yours, are in danger of running into us…well, not literally. I meant, in a figurative sense. Since, we are supposed to be present- body and mind, and accounted for in the hospital, maybe this way we don’t run the risk of learning about stuff we shouldn’t be able to have knowledge of.”

Stiles stares at her, trying to wrap his mind around the theory Y/N presented with all the _‘out of body’_ experience movies he’d seen, and comes up wanting.

“That seems like an oddly specific thing to guess about.” Stiles points out after much deliberation.

She rolls her eyes and shoots back in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Again with the hasty assumptions, Stiles. I’ve had plenty of time to test out my theories, long-term resident, remember? Anyways, next question please.”

Y/N voice goes a bit weird as she changes the topic and Stiles fears that he might have unintentionally hit on a sore spot for her. God knows, how long she was stuck in this hell-hole?

He already feels guilty about initially visualizing Y/N doing the horizontal tango with him for kicks, when she’s been nothing but polite, okay not immediately, still quite nice towards him. For starters, Y/N is still sticking around, answering his doubts even though she has no obligation to Stiles, and he’s pretty grateful for her presence too. This makes him feel a lot better than when he first woke up here: from lonely, _‘only soul present’_ depression, to more _‘I’ve got company’_ and somehow everything will turn out alright, optimistic change of mood swings.

“Did you- were you able to communicate or send some sort of signals with anyone, I know, you specifically mentioned wards existing to prevent just that but…?” Stiles sucks in his breath, heart thudding in his ears.

Y/N looks apologetic as she shakes her head, no. Yeah, She would have started with that info during his introduction to Coma 101 if that worked for her. Stiles didn’t know what he was thinking. Well, he is still going to try though…

He harrumphs, changing his mind at the last minute. “Ok…um…you said, you were able to move around the town, right? Will you be able to take me with you…er, to the hospital?”

Y/N actually grins at that.

“I don’t see why not. You should be able to navigate in safe zones of the city if I’m with you. Want me to accompany you now?”

**_-S &R-_ **

Stiles heart stutters at her invitation. True, he was the one to come up with the idea but to really follow through on that, is another matter altogether. Yet, he cannot contain his excitement at finally being able to see his father and Scott, maybe the pack too, at the hospital. Gosh, it felt like just this afternoon, Stiles thought he was a lone ghost doomed to haunt Beacon Hills for eternity. Oh wait, that reminds him.

“How does the time work around here? Is it same as the real world or…?” Stiles drawls.

“Oh, it’s actually faster. That is, except around umm…say reality which is your family and friends, you won’t notice any changes in your precise surroundings. You must have figured by now Stiles, about your inclination to stay inside four walls at all costs. Any effort to wander outdoors will only result in you getting distracted, and heading inside a neutral building again. This is mainly why, I believe you- er, our subconscious awakens as far away from the reality bubble as possible. Depending upon the level of trauma one can handle and needs protection from, of course.

"I could take you to your hospital room but I doubt you can stay there for long, Stiles. Perhaps, the entire duration of normal night…and before long you’re either bound to be bored, cranky or depressed. Watching people who care about you, worrying themselves to death while you can waltz around town tends to do that.” Y/N adds dryly.

Stiles huffs out a laugh.

“How about we defy the norms and settle for ecstasy instead?” He asks, cheekily.

He wasn’t kidding. The need to see his father and pack is growing heavily on his mind, getting harder to ignore with passing seconds or whatever that qualifies as time for them.

Y/N seems to understand him instinctively though. She gets up and motions at Stiles to follow her. They take a route he doesn’t recognize, maybe due to the fact that for most of their way, also some streets and few buildings start shimmering enticingly, and watching them made Stiles lose track of both directions and his own thoughts. Turns out, she was right about the whole accompanying thing working for Stiles.

It wasn’t until Y/N nudges him on the shoulder sharply that Stiles comes out of his trance. He blinks blearily and learns they’d arrived at the lobby of B.H hospital while he’s apparently on some kind of acid trip.

_That was one fucking strange trip!_

It didn’t occur to Stiles until she was leading them to his private room, and he observes the inside of room through open shades, where Scott, Derek and his father standing near the bed and discussing something, that Y/N might accidentally hear about the existence of Werewolves and supernatural creatures, if she lingers nearby. He cannot exactly ask her to (politely) leave, especially since she’s the reason Stiles was even able to trace his way back here. But hey, he didn’t want to be the one to give Y/N a crash course in B.H Supernatural 101.

Stiles would prefer if Y/N never learnt about this secret, period. It’s too dangerous and risky knowing about this world and she doesn’t need that kind of worry weighing down on her. She’s a coma patient like him; she already has enough problems to deal with, without Stiles adding some more to her plate!

He stops in front of the door, hesitant and wondering how to get rid of Y/N without hurting her feelings. Y/N, bless her soul, seems to get it if that upwards quirk of her lips is of any indication.

She hangs back, rubbing her hand over her neck in a nervous fashion.

“Err…you go ahead, Stiles. You have guests to attend and I don’t want to intrude or anything. Besides, I need to pay a visit of my own now that I’m here. Listen Stiles, umm…you probably won’t be able to roam some of these floors, so just wait for me in the hallway once you’re done. Actually, let’s fix on a time. Hmm…it’s still noon, so why don’t you wait for me around 9 pm in the lobby and I’ll meet you there.”

“Whoa, did you say noon? The hell?” Stiles turns and catches sight of the calendar on a nearby nurses station, it still reads Saturday, thank god, the same date as his supposed accident.

Y/N smirks suddenly. “Creepy, right? You just felt like you lived through an entire day when in actuality, only an hour passed.”

“Fucking weird.” Stiles agrees, stalling a bit.

Truth be told, he doesn’t want to open that door or glide past it and face his visitors. He wants to stay oblivious for a while longer. Y/N touches his wrist briefly and squeezes; the move managing to ground Stiles and calm him instantly.

Y/N stares at him, eyes heavy with an unfamiliar emotion for a fleeting moment, until it’s replaced with a forced smile. She nods encouragingly, making shooing motions at him before turning around and walking towards the stairs.

Stiles swallows through the sudden lump in his throat, and has the unexpected urge to wipe his brows despite his new inability to not sweat anymore. He takes a deep breath, musters courage and steps inside the room through the shades instead of door, cause why not.

Witnessing his father’s grief never fails to sucker punch Stiles, right in the heart, waves of guilt crashing over him for being responsible for putting his dad through hell. Particularly since, this is bound to drag some seriously, agonizing memories they have of hospital visits back when his mother was admitted and never survived to get formally discharged.

Shit, he is horrified just from imagining the kind of thoughts his father must be subjected to, seeing Stiles like this: pale and unresponsive.

He doesn’t deserve such an amazing father, particularly when all Stiles does is give him grief. Scott and Derek are both upset too and it makes Stiles feel ten kinds of worse for putting them all through this pain. Y/N was right; watching your loved ones suffer, when you feel relatively fine is one of the worst feelings to undergo.

Stiles couldn’t stand it any longer and he had hardly been in this room for about twenty minutes. None of them were revealing much except for information regarding his accident, which is a pretty standard wrong swerve at the wrong time.

In retrospect, Stiles realizes his error of not pressing Y/N for more details; mainly, which floor her room is located or even her last name, so he can figure out that information for himself. He still endeavors to search for Y/N, going so far as to reach near the stairs, when he finds absent-mindedly making way back to his room.

_Fuck!_

Guess, he will have to wait for her in the hallway at their allotted time. Why the hell, did Y/N even suggest that long waiting period? He needs to get used to this place fast; so he wouldn’t end up following an eerie GPS system that simply won’t take his wishes into consideration.

He grumbles, cursing his easily distracted self to hell and back, for not probing Y/N about her details, if only to know her better, as he settles down on the bed next to his sleeping self. This is definitely spooky, and is quickly occupying the top ten crazy situations of his life, and Stiles witnessed a lot of freaky stuff since Scott got bitten that night.

Stiles groans, as his father and his friends work out a schedule to stay with him in the room. It’s a really sweet gesture on their part, not wanting Stiles to be alone if, no, WHEN he wakes up. But right now, this is a torture for them and Stiles both, playing this waiting game. He turns his head and sees a pile of get-well cards and few flowers on the table next to his bed. He lets his mouth curl up in a first, genuine smile for a moment, touched again.

As he stares at the blemished ceiling, praying for the hours to slip by fast, Stiles wonders what Y/N is doing right then. If she too, is feeling overwhelmed from all the well meaning friends and family members, holding onto hope that they will get better soon.

He never even asked Y/N, what happened to her or how long she had been in the hospital…can he even inquire about it? God, she did mention being confined in this place for a long time, casually and how she was unable to communicate with anyone until he came along. He didn’t take that opening to press further.

 _Shit_ , he was only concerned about himself and that was damn rude of him. Well, it’s still not too late. Stiles resolves to befriend Y/N and be there for her, as she did for him. He closes his eyes and drifts off, not nearly sleeping but not exactly awake as well.

Recharging his soul batteries, yeah, that’s it.

**OO-** **_S &R-OO_ **


	3. Strangers to Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please stay at home, follow proper hygiene and be safe during this pandemic!  
> *S/R*

Stiles is slowly losing his mind, stuck inside the private hospital room with only his pale, sleeping body to watch and nothing else to do.

A lot of people are upset about his current medical status, which is a lot surprising than he expected. Friends, people he only dubbed as acquaintances as best, leaving get well soon notes and flowers for him is strangely soothing. Worse, is getting to observe his loved ones suffer on his behalf. His dad turned up again staying for a short while before leaving for work. Mrs. McCall checked upon him a few times but watching her usually serene face turn sad, while lovingly caress his hair only made Stiles that much eager to leave the building.

He kept glancing at the clock willing it to move faster, so he could meet up with Y/N already. Unfortunately, that’s not how time works. In fact, the faster you want the minutes to pass, you’d find it takes twice longer for the seconds to turn into minutes.

 _Phew!_ He finally catches sight of Y/N hovering outside his room, roughly ten minutes past their agreed meeting time. Stiles is too freaking relieved she came back that he chooses not to complain, much.

“I was pretty sure you ditched me for a hot second there.” He confesses, as they made their way out of the hospital.

Y/N chuckles, shaking her dark tresses yet otherwise not providing any comment in return for all the queries he manages to come up with. Stiles is fast learning she’s not really into offering explanations even for directly poised questions. As much as, he’d love to solve the mystery surrounding her, he is not blind to the fact - pissing off Y/N is currently not in his best interests. Stiles struggles to keep his silence and their conversation neutral whilst being guided to safer parts of the town, to idle around.

He’s not really surprised at not hitting off with Y/N. Stiles has never been good at making friends or conversation with people from school, Scott being the exception. And while recent Supernatural events have proved he is not entirely socially inept as many seem to believe, it doesn’t mean hot girl would find him interesting. Lydia certainly didn’t, even when they had to partner up to solve the Kanima mystery. She went back to Jackson after everything is wrapped up like nothing changed and that…that’s whole other can of worms he doesn’t want to think of right now.

 _So yeah…if Y/N doesn’t want to talk, then fine. Not the end of the fucking world. Fuck, he doesn’t want to be stuck here._ He’s tempted to strangle his breathing body back in the hospital just to escape this silent hell. _Why did she even accompany him at all?_

They end up at a fairly nice park few blocks down the road from Beacon High. An awkward silence pesters once they’re seated and Stiles resignedly expects Y/N to bolt citing some excuse, considering the way she keeps shooting uneasy glances his way. He would love to point fingers and proclaim _‘the stench of guilt in air is especially heavy today’_ or something along the lines, had he been the dramatic kind at her telling signs but mostly he’s just disappointed and lonely. _God, so fucking lonely._

“Umm…” Y/N begins.

 _This is it_. She’s going to bail, Stiles thinks.

“…you want me to drop you at the library or something? I mean, there’s no guarantee you will come across people reading a book you like but it certainly beats people grazing.”

“I guess you have somewhere else you have to be?” He sighs, not really expecting her to answer.

“Not yet. Uh- that is, I’m going to check upon a…friend in a while. Not for hours anyway. So, kinda free now to hang out. Well, not that you have to…I-you know what, I should have asked you where you wanted to go first instead of bringing you to one of my usual spots. Sorry about that. Is there any place you want to go?”

Stiles just gawks for the lack of better word. Y/N not only answered his question but is rambling. Realization dawns on him, as shift as lightening. He simply had mistaken her shyness for hostility and she apparently thought he didn’t want her around.

_Whoa! There seems to be quite a misunderstanding of sorts here. Also, she doesn’t hate him or is anxious to leave…nice. Wait, friend, huh! Is-is she blushing? Why, yes she is. There definitely seems to be a story here…_

And he remarks as such. She simply smiles that frustrating coy smile and in return points out how he never answered her question yet.

“I never said I mind having your company. And to answer your question - no, I don’t have any preferred location to haunt right now. Come on, Y/N you have been deflecting all my questions about yourself till now. I’m not prying here but you gotta give me something to work with. We have plenty of time to kill and I rather not die of boredom before we get to wake up…come on…” Stiles cajoles, imitating Scott’s puppy eyes look that always worked wonders for him.

As expected, Y/N doesn’t stand a chance before the combined powers of his wit and borrowed lost puppy pout of Scott.

“Alright, what do you want to know?”

Stiles pumps his hand in victory, cheering out a _‘Yes’_ that startles a laugh from her. Its okay if he comes across as goofy, she’s not going to run away screaming. At least he doesn’t think so.

**_-S &R-_ **

They play 20 questions and a short round of truth and dare to pass time. By the end of it, Stiles has to admit he knows only the barest basic info about Y/N.

_Well, that’s not exactly true..._

He knows highly detailed random tidbits about her life that would be of not much use if he were to say, search her out in a sea of nameless peers. Not that Stiles says it out loud. Okay, maybe he does.

“Oh come one, that’s not fair! You are hardly disclosing anything about you!”

Y/N merely shrugs, bemused. “What do you mean? I’m playing by the rules like you said.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and throws his hands up to better explain his frustration. “Yeah, monosyllabic replies and vague statements. Geez! It’s not like I’m interrogating you for our country’s secrets or anything...”

“Okay, okay. Fine. I will write a four page essay on my life and hand it over by our next meeting. Happy?”

He growls. Yup, makes that involuntary angry sound he kinda admired and mostly got pissed off when Derek did it. Huh. It’s actually not so fun to be on the giving side. O my god, is this how Derek felt when he conversed with him? Damn, was he this annoying or is Y/N worse than him?

Y/N quirks a smile and just like that Stiles knows she is intentionally pulling his leg. He groans, dragging his hands through his hair while she continues to stare weirdly at him.

“What?” He finally asks when Y/N isn’t forthcoming with any teasing remarks like he expects.

“Nothing. Fine. For real now, what do you want to know?”

He drums his fingers on his lap. “I don’t know…just, something – anything substantial? I mean, I get it if you don’t want to talk about why you’re in coma like me or for how long and all that…but you must be missing your friends and family, right? I blabbed about my best friend Scott and his complicated love life for about half-an hour-“

“Not to mention your epic crush on Lydia, which we all know by the way!” Y/N interjects in a bored voice.

“Exactly,” he insists. “See, you already know too much about me, from basic stats to private facts. I’d like to balance the trade here. So, go ahead and snitch at least one serious particular about you. If nothing else, just to pass the time.”

She hesitates long enough that Stiles considers backing off. He has no idea why he wants to know about her so badly…maybe he’s more bored than he thinks or maybe something about the way Y/N’s holding back is raising his hackles.

He was about to say _‘forget it’_ when she finally replies.

“We share Chemistry together.”

_What?!_

_Hell yeah, they do. But, what? Is she talking about Stiles or someone else?_

Stiles tries to say something in response to that blatant statement but ends up fumbling, mouth pursed to speak only to become speechless. Y/N snorts at him.

“I’m not done yet, Stilinski. God, you look like a blowfish. Relax! As I was saying, we share Chemistry CLASS together with Harris. Your shenanigans are the only thing making that nightmare of an hour bearable. Guess, I do owe you for that!”

“Oh,” is what he manages.

“I sometimes attend the lacrosse matches. Yes, sometimes because as you can probably guess, not a fan of the dangerous sport!”

Stiles gasps in mock outrage. “That’s blasphemy! You Miss, have just committed treason against our high school. Really? Do you even like sports at all?”

“God! Don’t act so…offended, Stiles! I mean, there are other, better games out there you know. I like watching them over stupid lacrosse matches.”

He rubs his hands together. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Baseball. I’m a loyal fan of the Mets.” Y/N shrugs, unapologetic.

“Fuck!” Stiles breathes out. “See, now I can’t fault you for flaking out on the school’s biggest sports event. Particularly since you have a great taste.”

They go on to discuss everything from books to crappy TV shows, finding they do have a lot in common. Stiles doesn’t feel as though he’s just learning about her; more like Y/N is an old friend, he’s catching up with after a long time apart.

“You don’t like Star Wars? That’s it! Sorry Y/N, this has been real but it’s time we go our separate ways.”

Y/N blanches for a second before scoffing. “Are you for real, Stilinski? Star Trek trumps Star Wars any day!”

“You take that back, right now.” Stiles splutters. “Also, don’t think I didn’t notice, I’m suddenly Stilinski whenever you’re out of good comebacks.”

“Whatever! I’m still right and you know it moles.”

**_-S &R-_ **

The first rays of sunshine slowly make way through the skyline, illuminating their surroundings when Stiles notices hours flew by unobserved as he and Y/N continued their friendly debates about…well, everything. Somewhere along the way, they managed to move from strangers to friends – chances are high, they will even end up as close friends too, going by the way they instantly bonded over mutual interests.

Morning has officially set in, with joggers and health-conscious people already hitting the park and roads.

“Shoot,” Y/N jumps the moment he mentions this. “I’ve gotta go. There’s…someone I need to check on. Let me just direct you towards…umm, you don’t want to go to the hospital, do you?”

He grimaces. “No, not really?”

Stiles is dying to ask who exactly is Y/N planning on meeting with, or is the correct word spying here? He definitely doesn’t want to go back to his maudlin room, free to face his father and friends grieve over coma self.

“I take it; I can’t tag along with you…?”

Y/N looks startled at his half query, half request. She adorably worries her bottom lip, deep in thought. She is nervous, he can tell, from the way she fidgets and folds her hands in a subconscious defense move.

“Hmm…I can drop you at the café or somewhere else.” Y/N tries to evade at first. She later changes her mind, going by her soft expression – clearly feeling sorry for him. “Actually, you know what? Yeah, you can come with…”

Few blocks over and in a strange neighborhood, Stiles stops walking to address a quiet Y/N. He wants to spend more time with her any way he can but not if she isn’t comfortable about it. Perhaps, this is something Y/N prefers to do by herself…Stiles doesn’t know the equation she has with her friends, hell, he wouldn’t want Y/N to walk in and hear about supernatural stuff from his friends either.

“Hey, you don’t have to take me along if you’re not comfortable. It’s alright, I can pass the time anywhere else.”

She smiles, that weird one, Stiles is starting to associate with _‘I can’t talk about it’_.

“Nah,” another strained smile edging into grimace category appears, “it’s barely few seconds, popping up to see a friend and then we can go to the café. I will have to go to the hospital then, so you can loiter there or at the library, your choice.”

“A friend, huh?” Stiles asks, something clicking in place at last. Maybe it’s the obvious signs of anxiety nearing overwhelming Y/N or the way she couldn’t stop playing with her hair. Perhaps, it the almost similar way he felt when Lydia dropped by his room for a visit, fussing with his appearance even though the red-head goddess couldn’t see his spirit, essence of life?

Y/N blushes as she stammers out, which he shouldn’t find extremely cute but he does.

“Something like that…”

_And…of course, Y/N has someone she already likes! Wait, why does it come across as shocking, and more importantly, why does he feel disappointed?_

**_OO-S &R-OO_ **


	4. Fancy a Fling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to imagine (& substitute the details for) the OMC of your choice. For those of you with no particular preferences, I’ve helpfully provided one. Hope this works for you guys.
> 
> P.S. Mention of certain views on Virginity (and loss thereof) is not intended as a universal fact or even to offend anyone. It is merely an opinion of the fictitious characters to further the plot along. Thank you!
> 
> ~~~SR~~~

_Yet each man kills the thing he loves,_

_By each let this be heard,_

_Some do it with a bitter look,_

_Some with a flattering word,_

_The coward does it with a kiss,_

_The brave man with a sword!_

_**~ The Ballad of Reading Gaol, Oscar Wilde**_

Stiles is surprised to find Y/N leading him towards the library instead of say, her friend’s house or even kind of a sports club.

Normally, his peers, who aren’t nocturnal, lazy or mostly glued to their systems like Stiles (and are also morning persons), tend to hit either the roads or fitness centers to keep in shape. He unconsciously bites his bottom lip, trying to come up with reasons as to why any high-schooler or even a teenager period, would be hanging out at a library, one that is open so freaking early…yup, six am on a weekday.

~~Gym is out then, which is freaking good to know!~~

This guy must be visiting often enough that Y/N is confident about seeking him here…so, whoever he might be, is definitely not a jock! Maybe a fellow nerd like Stiles or could even be a dork. Y/N seems like she would be into nerds, if their conversation is of any indication.

_‘Cool, cool. That- that’s totally awesome! Only because Y/N isn’t being a cliché by falling for a popular jock type…not because, it would be- mean anything else like having a high bar when it comes to guys. Pfft! That is INSANE and not really his concern…he has other stuff to worry about._

_Wait, he is a jock and a popular one too…isn’t that what Y/N said when they first met? Although, it could be argued he is more of a nerd or a dork, really…_

_It doesn’t matter, though! He doesn’t care what Y/N’s type is…he hardly knows her. In fact, they just met yesterday or was it the day before? God! This stupid place is messing with his sense of time. Although, there is something about the concept of time being an illusion that speaks volumes of truth to him, right now...’_

“Hey, Stiles…” Y/N calls out, making him take a break from his chaotic thoughts.

He turns towards her - chocolate brown eyes brimming with untold anxiety in her adorably wary face and slender hands wringing with same – right, this isn’t about satisfying his curiosity. It’s about lending moral support to his new friend as she faces her crush, which she wouldn’t need to in the first place if Stiles didn’t insist upon tagging along.

_Right, yeah…it’s not too late to drop this plan and backtrack. But, fuck if he isn’t intrigued now!_

“Yeah?”

“Umm…I just wanted to- y’know, give you a quick update so you won’t be- not that it is – I mean, it’s not like we are…you know, dating or anything…which is not totally crazy. I mean, it could happen! Just not happening right now, y’know…so, like what I’m trying to say is…”

“Okay, take a breather Y/N. I think I get what’s going on here…” Stiles smiles encouragingly, even goes so far as to breathe real slow to regulate her breathing with his.

Her rambling is only reinforcing how similar they both are when it comes to dealing with matters of heart! Stiles remembers worrying himself half to death regarding every minute paltry thing, every time he’s about to cross paths with Lydia. Thankfully, his insecurities and apprehensions have toned down a lot since being in regular contact with the beautiful prom queen and now, they are good friends too.

He is not sure what Y/N’s equation is with her guy but if Stiles has to guess, he would say it was similar to his circumstances before befriending Lydia arc.

“Yeah,” Y/N laughs nervously. “You’re right, Stiles. I just need to chill. It’s just that…um, I never - err… spoke about this- liking him, with anyone else before. You are the first person I’m telling - literally, so kinda nervous about being judged, y’know...” She trails off, casting another worried glance his way.

“Whoa! The last thing you need to worry about is me judging you, okay? Come on, you must have seen me follow Lydia around like a lost puppy, right? Nothing could beat that…so, seriously unless you are not really okay with me being around, just let me know point-blank, alright.”

She sighs, wetting her lips as she appears to be lost - processing his advice but all Stiles could do is stare at her mouth, all wet and enticing. He mentally shakes himself, drawing his gaze away with difficulty. Geez!

_‘What is up with him? He’s like ten times hornier than normal! Y/N just said she likes someone else, hell they are few feet away from meeting her Romeo and all he could think about is kissing her…what the fuck?’_

“He…uh, Alex is a college student, um, sophomore at Beacon Hills Tech.”

Stiles blinks, a few times trying to come up with a way to respond without sounding insensitive or disapproving. It is a tough feat but Y/N continues before he could voice his incredulity.

“Actually, it’s better if you see him. Err…I know how even I would respond, if some high-schooler says they’re crazy about a college sophomore, way out of their league but I’ve known Alex since we are kids. I mean, since I was a kid and he was a teenager…What I’m trying to say is, it makes more sense this way. Not that I’m a shallow person…um, it is simply, I mean – obviously, I like Alex for more than just for his ridiculously hot looks…”

She stops to take a deep breath, face crimson with embarrassment and low-key resignation.

“I’ve had a thing for Alex for as long as I could remember. Our parents are good friends, so in a way we did grow up together too. I’m not an idiot – I know I probably have no chance with Alex…I mean, you’ll get it once you see him. It’s just…I wish he would, you know, see me for once. Not as a kid he occasionally hangs out with but as…I don’t know, maybe as a person who might have feelings for him and is dying to get a chance to prove that?”

He has to turn away from her at that; Stiles is too familiar with the sentiment of feeling hopeless and invisible to the one person, you would literally die for…to not understand how Y/N feels about this guy, Alex.

Who is he to judge about their age difference and ( **IF** it even works out) possible repercussions of chasing after a college dude while still being a jail-bait?

“Okay, let’s check out your Mr. Bing already.”

Y/N smiles and the dour mood instantly lightens as they resume heading to their destination.

Stiles knows the Friends reference will work at cheering her up, although comparing this Alex to the infamous Chandler is something he is dead-set against; except for the whole high-school kid crushing on a cooler college dude thing, kinda hits the nail in this scenario.

Alex already sounds like a typical douchebag frat guy if he ever heard one, as Y/N progresses with her narration of her crush. Apparently, Sir _‘he gets laid a lot’_ doesn’t go for virgins or even goes for repeat performance unless in highly exceptional cases. A fact which is clearly bothering Y/N.

_‘What is so great about this Alex dude, anyway? Why would a smart and pretty girl like Y/N be pining after such a dead-beat?’_

These questions circle back and forth in his mind until they enter the study session of the library and Y/N bashfully points him out, seated in the center of the room. And, then it finally hits Stiles what the big deal is all about.

_Oh!_

_No wonder, Y/N is always so hyped up about hanging out in the library!_

**_-S &R-_ **

If Stiles has to describe Y/N’s mysterious guy Alex in one word, it is gorgeous. _Absolutely, breathtakingly and undeniably gorgeous_. Y/N was right when she said he is ridiculously hot. No man, nay, no human is allowed to look so incredibly and supernaturally beautiful, at all.

They linger around for a while, Y/N quietly mooing after Alex while Stiles tries to critically examine Mr. Walking Wet Dream for signs of any flaws.

No such luck! This guy is just perfect, at least as far as outer package goes. Standing at six feet tall, with well-defined, soft blond hair and toned body obvious from his dark jacket, tight shirt and jeans; incidentally the color combination of his attire bringing about even more attention to his already striking green eyes and classic bone structure. He even has a great voice and enchanting smile, Stiles curses, as they overhear him talking with a friend.

He and Y/N part ways after sometime – she doesn’t query him on his opinions regarding her crush and Stiles is super thankful for that. Y/N drops him at the café where they first met, promising to pick him up later, giving a rough estimate of four hours for their rendezvous.

Stiles is free to mentally prepare an extensive report about why Y/N pursuing Alex is such a terrible idea. For starters, even if this guy notices Y/N as a potential fling, because it is evident that’s how this asshole views women, he’s only going to break her heart after he’s done with her. And, damn if this thought doesn’t boil his blood. He might have only known her for a little while but Stiles couldn’t help being protective over her. He doesn’t want her to get hurt, chasing after a cold-hearted player no matter what Y/N thinks of Alex being a decent guy.

In his opinion, this Alex doesn’t come across as any different from Jackson, the only difference being he has a lot more ground to cover since Alex definitely didn’t have a Lydia in his life.

 _‘Y/N could be his Lydia if Alex is smart enough to realise what’s right in front of him.’_ That thought comes unbidden to his mind and brings a chilling fear along with it.

_‘No, this freak doesn’t date virgins, actually doesn’t date at all except for the type that doesn’t last one night. So, it’s a good thing Y/N stays unseen by him…’_

**_-S &R-_ **

The hours pass by in an alternatively angry and morose frenzy. Stiles tries to eavesdrop on others conversation but quits soon after, feeling bored and little creepy to continue. He mind wanders back to his pack, the worried face of his father and his friends. The guilt at causing them pain yet again is strong enough for him to actively repress the direction of his thoughts. He tries to explore the town for a while but has to hastily return when the edges of the streets start to blur and slowly transform into a maze resembling the labyrinth.

Y/N briefly touches his arm, to wake him up from his short nap when she joins Stiles at their table in the back. The few seconds touch is electrifying enough to jolt him into alert wakefulness.

_‘God! He sorely misses the touch of another human being. This whole intangibleness is starting to really creep him out.’_

“Hey,” Y/N greets softly.

Stiles repeats _‘hey’_ back, staring into her lovely eyes and feeling lost, yet strangely anchored in their depths.

“Umm,” she fidgets blinking away first and breaking the spell they had unknowingly fell into, “did you have a good time?”

“No.” Stiles snorts. “I was bored out of my mind. None of these people have active lives, either. They gossiped about lovebirds in latest episodes of TV shows, for crying out loud.’

Y/N has a nice laugh – a rich, melodious sound - it’s pretty contagious too, since Stiles couldn’t help but join her. He couldn’t remember the last time he cackled up like this, tears almost streaming down his face.

Once they stop, however, she pointedly looks at him. He doesn’t understand what Y/N is implying until she emphasis by glancing at her hand, _oh_ , Stiles somehow managed to make a fool out of himself yet again, and _Christ!_ When did he even reach out to hold her hand on the table? He didn’t even realise…

Stiles jerks back his hand like it burned; flushing with guilt and already stammering out several apologies.

“It’s okay, Stiles. I understand how hard missing the casual touch of another person is; just one of the several, painful reminders of being stuck in a limbo between living and the dead…”

“You seem to be doing fine.” He mutters, distractedly.

Y/N shrugs. “You’re just new to this.”

He rolls his eyes. _‘Yeah, yeah, humor me as though I’m an idiot incapable of casual observation or connecting dots’_ , he thinks sarcastically.

“Tell you what? I don’t mind doling out some casual hand holding or fist bumps, if you’re down with it.” She offers, drumming her hands on the plain, wooden surface – barely concentrating to make the offbeat rhythm – a feat considering, how hard Stiles tried to do the same and failed. Leaning on the small, comfy table to snooze is all fine, but the instant he tries to do mundane stuff the living are capable of, it’s back to incorporeal form. This sucks!

She had a knowing glint in her eye. “You just need some practice, Stiles.”

\--

They banter aimlessly – its fun and a much needed escape from a dark pit of realization this is kinda the new normal for him, now.

Stiles initially tries to put up token protest but agrees in the end to Y/N’s generous offer. A simple of act of brushing fingers and leaning against each other goes a long way in calming him, stifles the close to surface rising panic attack he’s unaware of.

One thing leads to another, and before he knows it they are discussing Alex and Stiles is elaborating his list of pros’ and cons’ (mostly, okay, actually it’s all cons).

“Come on, this guy doesn’t date virgins. What kind of a person makes such a crappy and inane rule like that, anyway?” He argues.

Y/N simply sighs, not even rising to the bait. “I’m sure Alex has his reasons. Hell, even I could think of some pretty sound ones, right on top of my tongue.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Y/N drawls. “How about most virgins tend to be jittery with nerves and need a lot of reassuring to not spook them away? They are hard work and require too much patience and attention; makes sense, Alex or anyone else for that matter wouldn’t want to shoulder that burden.”

Stiles gapes at her in shock; mostly at the matter-of-fact way in which she spoke –flippant, like stating a fact.

“Whoa, you don’t actually believe that, do you?”

“Yes, I do Stiles. Because that’s how I feel. Trust me, I tried to…do it you know, but every single time, I freaked out like a gigantic baby during second base. Fuck, I couldn’t even go through a make-out session without having a full on meltdown. It’s stupid isn’t it? I go on all about wanting to be with Alex, but I can’t even lose my V-card to some idiot so that I could get Alex to notice me. Pfft…pathetic!”

“No, it isn’t,” Stiles interjects loudly. “You can’t…Geez! You don’t have to do that, Y/N. It is perfectly fine to wait and have your first time with someone you like and trust. I bet if anything, the reason you keep _‘spooking out’_ is because you are not comfortable being intimate with some random strangers. And you shouldn’t have to be.”

He goes on, ignoring her dark scowl. “This is insane. I can’t believe you, despite being smart and opinionated, are willing to jump blindfolded in a dumb situation without considering all the consequences. I mean, Y/N is this Alex really worth all this? Do you want to actually fuck an unfamiliar person, just so Alex’s stupid rule doesn’t fit you anymore?”

“I…,” Y/N appears crestfallen for a moment before she straightens up, determination seeping into her voice. “Yeah, I kinda do, actually. Not the part about sleeping with a stranger… you are right about that, Stiles. But for what it’s worth, I want to do everything in my power to at least fit the category of people Alex would be potentially interested in. If not being a Virgin is a part of the equation, then shouldn’t I be doing my best, to fit the bill?

“You are crazy about Lydia, aren’t you Stiles? If you learn about a particular habit or trait which will undoubtedly gain you a chance with her, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to obtain that? It’s the same with me. I…understand if you think this is silly or if you don’t get why I crave Alex’s attention in any way possible…but I don’t have to explain my actions to anyone. Like I mentioned, you are the first person I spoke to about all this…so…”

“Err, I didn’t mean to offend you…it’s just – I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. I have been where you are, not the exact situation but y’know, the part where I was desperate to stop being a virgin. People make a big deal out of it but having sex for the first time is too overrated, if you ask me. Everyone is awkward and fumbling, trying especially hard to be cool. But in reality, like a lot of things – practice makes anything, even sex, perfect. I think you should hold out until you meet someone you feel safe with, to get intimate for the first time. There is no rush, really.

“Of course, like you said it is totally up to you, Y/N. I – just make sure you don’t do anything rash because you’re afraid you will lose out a chance with Alex.”

Stiles leans back, biting his lips painfully to stop from blurting any more advice. All said and done, you can only lead a wolf to the stream; you can’t make the lupine consume water against its will.

Y/N seems deep in thought; he can only hope his words reached her. Stiles gets her, he really does – that doesn’t mean he is alright with being on sidelines and letting her, his friend, make any stupid decisions just so an inhumanely pretty guy notices her as more than a kid.

She locks her brown soulful gaze with his, suddenly allowing her vulnerability to shine through. A beat of tensed silence goes by and Y/N steels herself visibly as if planning to say something outrageous or wildly inappropriate.

With his stomach tied up in knots with anticipation, Stiles leans forward subconsciously, folding his hands on the table, in front of him.

“You are a decent person, Stiles and a good friend too,” she starts with a genuine smile. “Thank you for looking out for me and speaking your mind. I realise it probably isn’t an easy thing to do…not when we barely know other. However, the fact you are willing to go the extra mile to look out for me says a lot about you.”

“Pfft…it’s nothing. I just don’t want you to get hurt. I like you despite knowing you for a short while, Y/N. You deserve to be happy and make up your own mind. I simply urge you to think things through before taking any hasty decisions…”

She chuckles, assenting to his request and he tries to shake off the unexpected warmth her agreement brings. There is a slight lull in their conversation when Y/N breaks it with a surprising proposition to his astonishment.

“So, Stiles… fancy a fling?”

**_OO-S &R-OO_ **


	5. Friends with Benefits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter earns the Explicit rating of this fic and is hopefully worth the long wait.  
> Also, in this house we stan and insist on safe and consensual sexual activities.  
> Now that you've been warned, let the fun times begin!!  
> O-S&R-O

_Dear Christ! the very prison walls_

_Suddenly seemed to reel,_

_And the sky above my head became_

_Like a casque of scorching steel;_

_And, though I was a soul in pain,_

_My pain I could not feel._

**_\- The Ballard of Reading Gaol, Oscar Wilde_ **

**_~_**

_‘If this is what being in coma entails, he’ll gladly never wake up and spend rest of the eternity in Y/N’s intoxicating embrace **’.**_ Stiles muses, leaving a trail of wet kisses across Y/N’s marked collarbone. 

In a way, he’s got his wish - the initial thoughts Stiles entertained on seeing Y/N in the café have certainly come true. They’re currently in Stiles bedroom, Y’N’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he presses her against the wall, peppering kisses on bare skin and eliciting heady moans.

Pale neck arched back granting more access to Stiles, Y/N hands kept wandering over his broad shoulders beneath his black T-shirt. He has absolutely no complaints with the way things are proceeding. He is happily balancing the warm and eager, petite body in his hands - the blunt pain of nails scratching his back alternated by the strong grip on his hair, being pulled further in and urged for more…more kisses, friction and everything to keep the heat pooling between their bodies going.

Stiles and Y/N mutually agreed to a simple _‘Friends with Benefits’_ arrangement following hours of discussion after her startling proposition. Despite, valid reasoning and through preparation backing their actions, nothing about their situation can be remotely termed as simple.

Y/N wanted to lose her inhibitions surrounding sex and virginity while Stiles honestly didn’t mind tagging along for the ride.

Her repeated assurances that anything taking place in this limbo doesn’t really count in the real world is both a source of immense relief and frustration for Stiles. As much as he finds the concept of a no-strings liaison with the pretty brunette irresistible, Stiles cannot deny the potential of a huge fuck-up is too high for them to ignore. Especially, since he manages to recognize the tell-tale weird flip flops in his stomach and occasional Goosebumps in Y’N’s presence which spell nothing short of disaster if his ongoing crush on Lydia is of any indication.

_Ah, his perfect Prada loving Ice-goddess!_

Stiles hadn’t really thought of Lydia much in the past few days (or is it hours?) not since they began their dalliance. He didn’t get to think much of anything past Y/N, his erratic heartbeat, their combined pleasure and the wild frenzy of emotions surrounding them.

Lost in the ecstatic haze of being with some outside of supernatural dangers and reality of their unfair world is a heady experience for Stiles. Every second they spend together feels eerily similar to the honeymoon period of a new couple – hanging out and venturing on date-like escapades, with lots and lots of sex, plus compulsory cuddle time and frequently falling asleep tangled up together.

Following an awkward and fumbling start in the privacy of their high-school’s vacant swimming arena, things between Stiles and Y/N soon heated up. From simple experimentation to complicated and thrilling positions, they steadily made their way through the sexual bucket list Stiles has been holding onto for a while. This is also where being non-corporeal or rather invisible became extremely advantageous.

 _Oh_ , how Y/N loved exploring various kinks, particularly public-sex without potential mortification and any real fear of getting caught holding them back. As for Stiles, he’s having an exceptionally good time. Several times in fact, in several different positions and really, for a horny teenager like himself, things couldn’t get much better than this.

\--

This brings them back to now, wherein Stiles finally got tired of screwing in random places and after convincing Y/N, moved things to his bedroom with a clear cut intention to christen his bed and basically every plain surface in his room.

_A plan which is off to a brilliant start!_

Stiles swiftly unbuttons her shirt at the first chance, the forest-green silky material hanging limply at her bony writs no longer bothers them since fully undressed is not an option (their annoying clothes magically reappeared on their bodies every time). One hand supporting Y/N’s weight, Stiles uses his right hand to grope her chest; teasingly scraping fingers on her nipples over the lacy black bra.

Y/N groans, using both her hands to hold his face and direct him towards her lips. He gladly obliges, teeth gently nibbling her bottom lip and slipping his tongue inside to meet hers in a joyful reunion. It’s nothing like the movies described. There no unexpected fireworks or random bursts of music announcing the start of something great. In fact, he is acutely aware of every breath Y/N took mingling with his, as they moved in tandem guided by the heat of the moment and their unruly hormones.

There is no orchestrated music present other than the amazing synch of their moans, Y/N mewling in pleasure when Stiles does something right and the overlapping sounds of their bodies meeting. But, it really doesn’t matter to him. They are dancing to the oldest tune known to the mankind and making up their own unique melody as they go. Considering they are also consistently having fun on top of everything else, there are worse ways things could end for them.

Not interested in multitasking anymore, Stiles leads them to his four-poster bed which is fortunately in good condition other than his usual disarray of junk and latest research.

Dropping Y/N and admiring the enchanted vision she made, spread over the Indigo bed sheet like his personal feast, Stiles grins looming over her. The black skirt hitched when she fell, easily drawing his gaze towards the ample skin the move uncovered and the sneak-peak of underwear which somehow evaded its attack.

Pupils dilating as desire goes into an overdrive under his skin, he leans down to trace his lips on a path with a new destination in sight. Bunching up the skirt in one quick movement, Stiles taunts and teases her by playing with her skimpy underwear. Pushing aside the thin material to the side, he uses his long fingers to slowly outline her already wet entrance and fondles the cheeks.

Stiles feels wrecked with pleasure as Y/N clutches at him and blabbers in ecstasy, like he's the one being taken apart and born anew. It feels different. Good and exciting in a way he never imagined.

Overwhelmingly good to be honest...so much that it scares him a little when he thinks hard about it. 

For so long, Stiles had hung up on (possibly) being the only virgin in his class. When he finally did it with Heather, there was no magical moment at the end like he expected. In fact, their first time is pretty awkward. Maybe, it's because they're childhood friends or a definite lack of chemistry contributing to the anticlimactic feels but Stiles didn't experience the fireworks he's been led to believe courtesy of media and Scott's constant puppy grins. 

It's only after hooking up Malia and their subsequent break up that Stiles even realized the difference between hooking up and making love. Sure, his relationship with the coyote girl is extremely short - born out their mutual solution to let out some much needed steam. Once they learnt she's actually a Hale and had to deal with Peter, their interest dwindled into a spark and later turned to ash.

They both had so much on their plates and this is without confronting the neon torch Stiles kept carrying for Lydia. It is beyond doubt the first and only romantic relationship he had which ended amicably. 

A random one-night stand or two with strangers, in between supernatural battles and fight for their lives had only stressed the importance of how emotions play a huge role in these encounters. Which is why, he's back to _'waiting for Lydia'_ plan. 

Stiles accepted Y/N's proposal without any expectations ... Initially, even dreading a fallout.

However, things progressed at a rate beyond his wildest dreams. Spending time with the girl, talking under the stars about just everything and the casual intimacy they freely shared and the way it made him feel to be around her is simply indescribable.

In a good way, the kind which makes him wish his time with Y/N never comes to an end. In the way that doesn't hold any regrets and where his love for Lydia seem like an infatuation which ran its course.

Euphoric...yes, that's how Stiles feels when he's with Y/N.

_Euphoric and infinite._

Like all his bad days are just a distant memory and the future is theirs to choose - the possibilities endles and welcoming.

\--

A hand hesitantly traces his cheeks, drawing routes between his moles as Stiles grins down at the dazed brunette. Y/N usually keeps playing connect the dots on his skin and the fact, she's still doing it now with the same awestruck look in her eyes causes a warm feeling to bloom in his chest.

She's been quite for far too long. _That won't do!_ Stiles loves hearing her classy tones reduced to desperate monosyllabic pleas. 

_Time to turn up the heat!_

He enjoys driving Y/N crazy - rubbing her clit and fingering while watching the lovely brunette writhe underneath his hands, expertly maneuvering her towards an orgasm.

“Stiles...” Y/N whines, almost in agony at this point, as he takes sweet time pushing her to the edge yet holding back in the last second.

She is clutching at his arms, back arching and eyes shut. Her cute face, currently a gorgeous shade of pink is an open book demonstrating a multitude of emotions of which gratification is clearly leading.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N.” Stiles nearly pants, on edge himself and wanting to prolong this saccharine torture some more.

He is already hard, has been for a while now. His cock straining against his jeans is bordering on painful, the longer Stiles continues to ignore paying attention. But, he has always been high on giving, preferring to satisfy and meet the demands of his partner over his own and this time is no exception as well.

“You, Stiles. I want you inside me.” Y/N tries to demand but her strained voice comes close to begging.

Satisfied upon hearing the low whimper, he drawls lazily. “Well, when you put it like that, it would be criminal of me to refuse, isn't it?”

He quickly unzips his pants, pushing them along with his boxers to pool near his feet and fucking finally lays an eager hand on his dick, jerking it few times to get into rhythm of things. Offers a quick prayer for lacking the necessity of donning a condom in this spirit world and hesitantly lines himself amid Y/N’s cursing to hurry the fuck up.

Carefully maneuvers his dick, inching slowly inside the wet heat and waiting for Y/N’s confirmation to proceed as he positions her legs over his shoulder. Stiles prepared her thoroughly beforehand, scissoring the tight entrance through slow finger thrusts and increased their pace hitting the G-spot and retreating back before Y/N has a chance to fully cum over his administrations.

Now, seeing her give an eager nod and verbal consent, Stiles pushes his way in until he’s hilt deep buried inside her. He almost loses control, driven with a need to snap his hips forward and maintain earlier friction. But he once again stops, checking over Y/N and taking in cues from her response. Only when she’s ready, Stiles begins to slowly thrust and picks up the pace as words of encouragement and appreciation fill his ears.

“Oh fuck. Stiles, harder. Fuck, ah harder.”

He groans, lost in the sensation of being repeatedly enveloped by velvet warmth and a buzzing builds in his ears. “God, Y/N. You’re so good for me. Fuck…”

He continues moving, keeps changing their position to seek her lips and then to mark her neck some more. Swallows the groans she makes and sweeps her hair across her shoulders to make place again, addicted as he was to leaving hickeys over her clear skin.

As always, there is an unaccountable haste to their actions, as though seeking a forbidden fruit during a limited window of time. They claw at each other, teeth playfully biting sensitive areas leaving souvenirs of their coupling behind (which unfortunately fade away in matter of minutes) and nails breaking skin when overwhelming emotions get the best of them. Whether its Y/N riding his cock or Stiles pounding into her, there is a clear desperation as they chase after their mutual climax.

The lasting damage however, takes place when involuntary ramblings are accidentally overheard which are later secretly cherished, particularly ones uttered in the heat of the moment and never to be seen the light of the day during stone-cold sobriety.

Stars exploding behind eyelids, Stiles collapses on Y/N spent and rolls over to catch his breath, while also attempting to cage any spare feral sentiments from escaping out. Breathing slowly returning to normal, he casts a glance and finds his partner in crime knocked out for the day, facing Stiles and instinctively grabbing for his hand. Smiling, he pulls her closer to him in an embrace and shuts his eyes as well, clonking out.

**_-S &R-_ **

They both honestly lost count the exact number of times they fucked. Yet each time they did, Stiles couldn’t shake off an underlying fear this could be their last time. Neither Y/N nor Stiles insisted on any specific rules to their casual arrangement except for a standard safe word – _stop_ , if things were to get too squicky for either of them.

No set rules as to when to stop, just what they want to cover during their fling.

There are some random moments among their comfortable silences subsequent to post-coital bliss where Stiles couldn’t help worrying whether Y/N is thinking about putting an end to their little pact. If the slumbering girl is dreaming about the jerk Alex and maybe wishing the older guy is the one laying next to her instead of boring, mundane Stiles.

Logically, he knows there is no way Y/N could be imagining Alex in his place as Stiles fucked her nine ways into Sunday. Also, because Y/N kept repeating his name like a goddamn prayer as though she’s on verge of receiving a capital punishment and Stiles is her only chance at salvation.

Still, there are times when he couldn't shake off this unreasonable fear no matter how hard he tries...

\--

Observing her cute face light up in excitement at the mere glimpse of the walking god-complex Alex and hearing Y/N’s voice waver in uncertainly discussing her near-zero chance with the college student is enough to give his intangible body a non-existent ulcer with all its lasting concrete aches.

Smart enough to recognize he’s babysitting a green-monster whenever Alex is mentioned, Stiles is still reluctant to connect the dots. Or rather, accept the picture formed by his careful analysis preferring to play ignorant for now. He indulges in their happy bubble, refusing to acknowledge reality and going as far to avoid hanging out in his hospital room for the fear of running into his distraught father or a guilt reeking friends gathered around his pale, fragile body hooked onto several strange looking equipment.

The mandatory duration apart from Y/N (she refuses to budge despite his best efforts at persuasion) is literal hell. He begins to understand just how much he’s relaying on the cute girl and their intimate time together to avoid contemplating about his shitty life and consequences to his terrible accident. The very thought his medical bill could be ruining his father’s meager financial status at this very instant is enough to send Stiles into a whirlwind of anxiety and stress on an extremely short notice.

_‘No thanks; he had enough worry to last a lifetime. Isn’t it kinda why he’s stuck in a coma now? To get some much needed rest from over-thinking himself to death.’_

Of course, he is definitely aware of the unavoidable complications in his future, whenever his chaotic mind runs out of all the paltry distraction tactics and the annoying voice of reason remains, reminding Stiles it is possibly too late for hightailing to safety.

Stiles Stilinski is not the kind of guy who does anything offhandedly and certainly not when it comes to matters of heart or apparently, even when messing around with others. He would have loved to have this shocking heads-up before agreeing to a no strings attachment with Y/N and not when he’s already halfway in love with her.

_Shit! He is, isn’t he?_ _... Halfway in love with Y/N._

**_-S &R-_ **

Stiles is falling for Y/N … rapidly, undeniably yet absolutely head-over-heels for her.

Strangely enough this revelation doesn’t cause him to go into a hyper-drive of panic induced adrenaline. He feels at peace with this knowledge. Perhaps, it’s because he is actually friends with Y/N and they are as good as dating presently, which alleviates typical fears following such epiphany.

Or maybe, its due to the fact Stiles didn’t place Y/N on a pedestal from the start. Whatever the reasons, this new found knowledge isn’t unwelcome and that itself is a novelty to him.

And yes, he is content that for once, the subject of his interest is aware of Stiles existence. Not to mention, they also have a better relationship than the _‘strangers turned to reluctant acquaintances and maybe even friends’ equation_ , he shares with Lydia.

However, Lydia is not in love with anyone except for herself while Y/N clearly has strong feelings for the Alex bastard.

Fuck.

_Why are his options always so complicated? Why can’t Stiles have good things without having to fight tooth and nail, only to end up irrelevant in the grand scheme of things?_

_Wait a minute. Why is he already giving up on Y/N without even trying?_

Granted Y/N has specified time and again, regarding how much she looks up to the older jerk and finds him awe-inspiring for whatsoever reasons.

Sure, Stiles and his lanky, mole-scattered body ~~probably~~ definitely wouldn’t even compare next to that breathing Greek-fucking-god sculpture. Again, he competed against douchebag Jackson for Lydia’s attention and while both jerks are cut from similar cloth, it is obvious Alex is in a different league altogether.

If his ten year plan worked to an extent and Lydia is now on relatively good speaking terms with Stiles (and they started at opposite ends of the social totem pole), he is confident of his chances to win over Y/N, chiefly due to their undeniable chemistry.

_And, the best part in his favor?_

He and Y/N work so well together and there’s staggering evidence supporting this. From their two am conversations to cuddling time filled with remising their nostalgic past and everything in between, Stiles found an instant connection with Y/N, second only to Scott (sans the sex) whom he considers as a brother and part of his family.

Still, he is not completely crazy for this enigmatic girl yet.

 _Oh_ , Stiles can easily see it happening, specially if they were to continue with their pattern. Alex would definitely be a problem, he needs to deal with in such a case. Although, this is a reoccurring nagging fear which keeps him from his typical response of leaping first and worrying later attitude. There is a high possibility that, he is only reacting to their environment and not as a result of harboring genuine feelings for Y/N since there is literally no one else for him to interact with than her.

There's hardly a way to determine whether his hypothesis is correct or not...at least, not so soon.

Besides, Stiles wants to be damn sure of his intentions before approaching Y/N. He owes it to both of them and their budding friendship to not fuck it up. Having aptly prided himself for perfectly honing detective skills since a kid, this should be a piece of cake in comparison.

And really, they have all the time in the world to figure this out.

Neither of them is going anywhere and in the meantime, Stiles is more than content to go with the flow and be an excellent friend to Y/N along with the promised, awesome benefits of course.

****

**_OO-S &R-OO_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A grateful thanks for all your wonderful patience, Kudos and feedback. Fingers crossed, my muse pays frequent visits and I'll be able to update soon.  
> Thank you so much for reading! 💜


	6. A Dream Land of Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!  
> Thank you for all the wonderful support, kudos and subscriptions! I will try and update whenever muse cooperates, for sure. 
> 
> Stay safe and healthy, people. ❤
> 
> ~S&R~

_For the heart whose woes are legion_

_’T is a peaceful, soothing region—_

_For the spirit that walks in shadow_

_’T is—oh,’t is an Eldorado!_

_**\- Dream-Land, Edgar Allan Poe**_

**~S~R~**

A few more blissful encounters later and Stiles is yet to figure out his feelings for Y/N.

He gives up actively thinking (read: worrying) about what they’re doing and how long it’s gonna last. As a routine, Stiles tends to leave the critical analysis of his actions after he fucked things up. He usually goes with the flow, following his gut on what feels right and everything somehow works out fine in the end. Hopefully, this stint (affair? Dream?) with Y/N also follows the same pattern.

Looping his arms around Y/N’s shoulders, he pulls her close. As always, her hands gravitate towards his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly and holding Stiles captive as their lips move against each other in what’s fast becoming an unbreakable habit.

**-S &R-**

Stiles runs his long fingers through Y/N’s soft hair. Uses the hitch in her breathing to gently bite her bottom lip and slips in his tongue. They are back in his bedroom, their favorite meeting spot over rest of the town. The weight of Y/N in his lap a familiar sensation, she shifts to meet his passion igniting the fire in his belly and he automatically tightens his hold.

One hand is cradling her head and tracing soothing lines over her hair while the other stealthily crawls down to squeeze her back and increasing the friction against their groins. 

“Fuck.” He swears, growing aroused and eager to do something about it.

Y/N grins, pressing down and shaking her ass a little. “What? Something bothering you, Stiles?” She has the gall to smirk at his frustration.

“Oh, I’ll show you what’s bothering me, alright.”

In a swift motion he flips them over, pressing Y/N on the mattress with him looming over her. He has her hands pinned over her head and raises a dark brow: triumphant.

Firm, just sufficient to overpower yet unmoving; Stiles starts with soft kisses near the edge of her lips. He moves back though, when she tries to respond in kind. As her features scrunch in confusion, he pulls the trigger in glee.

“Hey pot, how’s it going?”

“For fucks sake, Stiles!” Y/N groans, amid his delightful crowing. “Are you planning on teasing me all night or are you actually gonna do something about our mutual issue?” She finally challenges when he shows no signs of halting his snickering any time soon.

And really, how could Stiles say no to such a tantalizing proposition?

Pulling his shirt off in a graceful move, he works at the buttons on her blouse and uses the material to tie her hands together. He arranges Y/N to lean against the headrest of his bed and settles between her legs.

“Growing bold, are we...” He mutters, running gentle hands over her curves.

She makes a complicated sound with her eyes closed and arching into his touch. Even after all this time, Y/N is still careful to stay quiet or at least not ramble like him. The best he was able to drag from her during sex is the fervent whispers of his name and noisy moans.

He teasingly nips at her flushed skin, “I want to hear you, babe.” Every single shudder and twitch in her frame reverberates against his body. She manages to latch onto his earlobe as a substitute for replying. The warm breath against his ear as Y/N presses tiny kisses on the shell before playfully nipping the soft flesh invokes goosebumps across his hands.

“How about I show you instead?” The tingle from her whisper runs all the way down to his toes, curling in pleasure as she makes good on her promise.

\--

Shedding clothes as quickly as they can, Stiles reaches the end of his patience fast. He leaves her hands in constraint. Prepping thoroughly, he positions himself at her wet entrance and begins to slowly thrust. Baby steps.

“Is this what you wanted?” He can’t help but continue to tease.

Her rejoinder is impatient and snarky, just as he expected. “Yes, fuck – just fucking move already –”

She barely finishes speaking and Stiles loses his resolution and begins fucking Y/N in the earnest, lifting her hips and then slamming her back down. She is also grinding down on his dick, begging for more and shivering in naked pleasure.

He feels the last clutches of his self-control hanging by the thread as Y/N enthusiastically takes every inch of him with sweet-sounding gasps.

“Stiles, oh fuck. Stiles – Stiles, please –”

“So fucking good and wet for my cock. You’re so perfect for me, Y/N.” Stiles cannot stop the words from pouring out.

Even as he praises her, Stiles realizes the truth in them. Wanting nothing more than to distract himself from staggering realizations in midst of sex, he falters for a second. Time to spice it up a little.

Moves around to rearrange them, so Y/N is seated on his lap and nudges her with a sly wink. “If you want it so badly, you should take it yourself.”

Eyes flying open and indignant, she glares or tries to when Stiles slows his pace to a stop. Huffing in disbelief, she braces against his mole-splattered pale chest, shuffling and adjusting herself. Soon begins lifting her body up and sliding down his length.

“Stiles…” Y/N moans, literally shaking as she bobs on his dick and fills herself up.

He puts one hand on her waist, squeezing and the other reaching up to stroke her face. Y/N’s eyes are bright and fond as they gaze back at him. Without breaking eye-contact, she slants her head to kiss his palm and Stiles nearly gets a stroke when the inevitable epiphany hits.

He loves her eyes. Loves her laugh too, her voice and absolutely eccentric taste in music. Stiles realizes with a jolt, there is hardly nothing he doesn’t love about Y/N. All her rough edges, flaws and even her obstinate propensity to hate Star Wars. The warm gooey feelings he got accustomed to possessing near Y/N burns hotter all of a sudden as understanding fully sets in.

Love.

That’s what this bubbling sensation setting his insides on fire is called.

He’s in love with Y/N.

\--

Acting on auto-pilot and overwhelmed by emotions plundering through his chest, Stiles gives up resisting and rolls them over again in a smooth move.

Y/N makes a shocked noise at the change but he doesn’t give her time to adjust. He merely pushes her legs up and shoves himself balls-deep and hammers inside Y/N at a fast and brutal rate. She lifts her tied hands over his neck and receives his fervent kiss. Stiles wants to abandon his functioning brain along with their clothes but like the shitty rules of this limbo insist, his thoughts too remain stuck and refuse to disappear.

Stiles is losing his goddamn mind: over how good and perfect everything feels, Y/N is gorgeous and twisted around him, pressing into the pillow to silence her screams and having absolutely no idea the effect she has on him.

He carefully turns her head to face him. She looks and sounds desperate, driven half insane with need. “I want to hear your screams.”

His voice is surprisingly calm, well in opposition to the chaos reigning within him. Stiles fucks her harder with Y/N’s loud pleas in the background. Her broken whimpers, shuddering and gasps are his undoing. He couldn’t take it for much longer. Knowing what he does now, having Y/N pliant and underneath him, taking everything Stiles gives, he can feel the tell-tale heat creep up in his body.

They both come around the same time, orgasm rippling in waves and setting off metaphorical fireworks and orchestra in its wake. Stiles uses the last of his energy to peel himself off Y/N and collapses next to her.

**-S &R-**

“Next time, give a girl little warning if you want to indulge in a Dom/sub play.” A grumpy Y/N mutters before shuffling close to cuddle with him. Her eyes are already closed and the undertones of laziness and exhaustion are easy to detect from her words.

He laughs, heart skipping a beat at imagining a future where they discuss these topics casually like normal couples do.

“I will write you a note.” Stiles solemnly promises. He can only dream, he will be allowed the privilege to do so.

She harrumphs quietly but he can already tell, he is fast losing Y/N to sleep. Waits to make sure she falls asleep before leaning to place a tender kiss on her forehead and turns to face the dreary ceiling in contemplation.

All the previous reservations, conflicts and potential scenarios run through his mind. It was simple to consider them when they were a distant possibility. But now that it is his immediate reality, Stiles finds himself second-guessing everything, from his plan of action to the plausibility of his success rate.

Still, the one thing Stiles cannot deny or hide from any longer is the strength and legitimacy of his feelings. The sooner he accepts his fate, the better. Whether he and Y/N are residing in a bubble of passion in a dreamland or not, this is now his reality. Time to face the facts. There is no use arguing in circles with an aim to talk himself out of it.

Alright, he is in love with Y/N.

Now, what?

**_OO-S &R-OO_ **


End file.
